“How so? have you not discovered where they came from, or where the rest of the rascals fled to?”
“No; in truth, the two dead men no one could recognise. Their attire was the same as the great band of fugitive Chouans that, driven out of Brittany two years ago, were massacred wherever they could be found by the Blues—as the Republican soldiers were then styled; pursued across the Seine above Honfleur, they dispersed themselves through Normandy, committing various depredations, but were supposed to have been finally exterminated. There has been a general hunt after the rest of those brigands, but no trace of them is to be found.”
“Curious enough, in such a well-populated district as this,” said the Lieutenant. “However, as you escaped being plundered, it matters but little.”
“Yes, as it turned out,” said Jean Plessis. “The loss of the money would have been of no great moment; but I had very valuable papers relative to this estate of Coulancourt, and what is even of more consequence, Madame de Coulancourt, after some difficulty, a great deal of expense, and nearly two years’ delay, has procured certificates of her marriage with Monsieur Granby Arden, and also those of the birth, &c. &c., of her two children, Julian and Mabel; similar papers were lost, as you know, in the casket. By-the-by, that robbery of the contents of the casket was a most strange affair. When Madame de Coulancourt communicated it to me, I set out for Toulon, for I felt satisfied that the robbery was committed on board the ship you stayed so many hours in the night you had the care of Mademoiselle Arden. By patient and diligent inquiries and bribery, I found out that the two galley-slaves on board the vessel at that time were both remarkable men, who afterwards figured in the bloody scenes of the Reign of Terror. One perished under the axe of the guillotine, the other—the one I strongly suspect of committing the robbery—I cannot trace. With the fall of Robespierre he disappeared, and has not been heard of since. This man’s name was Vadier—Augustine Vadier; he was, before the Revolution broke out, a jeweller of great repute, in the Rue St. Pancras. He was famous for his skill in imitating precious stones of all kinds, and was a bad and dissipated man. It was discovered that some ladies of the court, who had sent their jewels to be re-set, were defrauded of the real gems and false ones substituted. Other frauds came out; he had false keys, could open cabinets and extract the contents in a most dexterous manner; and at last was brought to trial for stabbing one of his workmen, who threatened to betray him, and condemned to the galleys for life. He was sent to Toulon. When the galley-slaves got loose at the taking of that port by the English, this man made himself notorious after the evacuation, by his bloodthirsty revenge upon all aristocrats; got himself into favour with the infamous Feron and the younger Robespierre, rose into power under the elder, and then on his fall, as I before said, disappeared. This man, I suspect, was the robber of your treasure, for he was known to possess a large sum of money immediately after regaining his emancipation; he and the rest of the liberated slaves committed horrid massacres and robberies.”
“Very likely indeed,” remarked Lieutenant Thornton; “in fact, there is no other way of accounting for the loss of the contents of the casket. Fortunately, Madame de Coulancourt has been able to replace the papers; had she failed, the loss would have been serious. I was going to ask you, Monsieur Plessis, why Mademoiselle de Tourville leaves France and seeks a home in England? that is, if my question is not indiscreet.”
“Not at all, monsieur; far from it. It is a very natural inquiry, as you will most likely be her companion on the journey. This young lady,” continued Jean Plessis, “is of good family, as I before said. She is an orphan, and I do not believe she has a relative in all France besides Madame de Coulancourt.”
“Then she is a connection of the late Duke de Coulancourt—as madame is an Englishwoman.”
“Such is the case. Unfortunately, she is not only left without relatives or friends, but actually without fortune of any kind. She has a horror of France, from what she witnessed and suffered, and she ardently longs to reach England, where she intends to exert her great musical talents for her support.”
“Good God!” exclaimed Lieutenant Thornton, looking with an expression of extreme astonishment into the face of the intendant. “Mademoiselle de Tourville, so young, so beautiful, so pure, and so amiable, thrown upon the heartless world of London!”
“Nay, nay,” interrupted Monsieur Plessis, laying his hand, with a smile, upon the lieutenant’s arm, “I say also, God forbid! Do not suppose for an instant, that the generous and noble-minded Madame de Coulancourt would permit such a course of life to her young and interesting relative. No, no, she will not; but it is now late; to-morrow I expect an important letter from madame, which will finally determine our future movements. When I receive the letter, you shall be made fully acquainted with everything.”